


Fractions of you

by cloudylane



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, mentions of physical abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3232919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudylane/pseuds/cloudylane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to 'A fraction of hope'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fractions of you

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,
> 
> so I've finally finished the prequel, it's very raw and I've mixed feelings   
> about posting it because the topic it very dark and much of it is left unexplained  
> mainly because I chose to stick to Iscos point of view so you only find out what   
> he learns, I do hope you still enjoy reading this...

„Please“ James whimpered throwing his head back, bucking his hips in need, he looked unreal, like something out of a movie, a painting maybe…A perfect sin made flesh. „Fuck…James…“ Whatever you intended to say vanished from your mind, almost by their own accord your hips react thrusting into him harder, faster. You want this to last forever, keep this image, keep him, his hands, his lips…all of him, so hot around you..Yet All you want is release. James tightens around you…and fucking grins. Honest to god flashes you his cheekiest schoolboy grin. Fucking hell. Your brain shuts off, all thats left is instinct and desire. Way too soon its over and your trying to get your breath back pulling out all the while clumsily trying to take him back into your arms, because you just need to hold him now. 

Hold onto him maybe. James stays, but he has turned away from you. Softly you run your fingers through his mussed up hair, stroking his neck, his cheek, he lets you, but there is no reaction, as usual. It shouldn’t sting, but it does. With a sigh you get up to clean yourself. It would be sensible to distance yourself, you care too much as it is. Though its probably too late for that. Returning from the bathroom, James has twisted oddly legs to one side, face to the other, staring out of the window. In all his naked perfection, he looks like a doll someone broke and tossed away. Your not sure wether your want to pull him into a hug or shake him, you settle for the first option as the second would surely raise questions you can’t answer, or maybe its more the ones you would need to ask that frighten you. At least hugging him gives you the illusion you can protect him, not that your know from what, or if thats even what he needs. Actually deep down you believe it is far to late to guard him from anything. You don’t care to admit how much that hurts. „I should…We’ve got training tomorrow“ James makes a move to get up but you gently place a Hand on his hips to stop him. „It’s okay you can still stay over, we can take two cars no one will know“ That probably wasn’t James concern after all their teammates either wouldn’t care wether they came to training riding an elephant or had a pretty good idea of what was going on. „You can have the guest room if you want, there is fresh bedlinen and everything“ You’re borderline begging now, but you just…don’t want him to drive back to that cold impersonal apartment or perhaps you just want him around. „Okay…then, I’ll shower“ Its only a small smile but its something. You’re learning, having a choice, especially the opportunity to retreat matters to him. You busy yourself with getting dressed even making the bed while James is in the bathroom, pretty pointless. It’s late and you need rest before training. Still you know you won’t be getting much sleep, toiling, thinking, wishing. Once James out of the shower, you get another soft smile and a „Good night“ before he disappears into the guest-bedroom. 

It shouldn’t bother you but you can’t help your stupid stubborn heart. Of course its just sex, you wouldn’t even call James a friend, how could he be when all he is sharing with you is his body? Yes of course there is the friendly but always vague talk in the dressing room but he is like that with everyone, reserved but nice to his teammates, unfailingly polite towards staff and the press. He has certainly got the sunniest pokerface you have ever seen but one only has to watch him grin, see that pure undulated joy on his face when he scores to know that off the pitch, he is wearing a mask. But that alone probably wouldn’t worry you, after all he is new and might just need time to open up. Its the stark contrast between the happiness he exudes with a ball on his feet, even when he was still struggling to assert himself and critics were pulling his performances apart, and how emotionless he appears otherwise. Most of all though its his…carelessness, he is…well easily available, (Usually you would phrase this a lot cruder but for James none of those expressions feels right) of course he is single he can have sex with whomever he wants, but he must know whats being said about him, how some of the others treat him, still he offers his body, so completely, like its nothing. None of this is your business, your sleeping with him him too, so your hardly better than anyone else. Of course you like to tell yourself you’re different because you care but that probably doesn’t matter much to James. Actually judging his behavior he would prefer you to act more like this thing between you is just a casual hook up. Which was all it should be, tension relief as Sergio called it. Just something to let off steam when the pressure cooker that is Real became too much to bear. After all no one could fault James, the world-cup star, the newest multi-million man, for feeling overwhelmed. Maybe thats all there is to it and you’re reading too much into his behavior because you want him (so badly). 

 

*****

 

You always hated horror movies because most of the characters were complete idiots, who in their right mind would enter a dark cellar or a house in the middle of nowhere?! You thats who. Okay not literally, but staying in your room listening to James being fucked by Chicha feels pretty suicidal. You should leave, go over to Cris for some FIFA, annoy Iker an Sergio, take a walk or even turn the TV up, anything. But you don’t, some masochistic streak in you even has you trying to dissect the muffled sounds, imagining whats going on instead. Until it suddenly stops, there is a audible thump, like a body falling on the floor, noisy footsteps…you’re on your feet and outside quicker than your mind can from a coherent thought. Just fast enough to catch James. Literally. Pants barely up, shirtless, eyes wide, he's fleeing. Headless like a hunted animal. Purely by instinct you manhandle him into your room, nobody needs to see him like this. You expect him to fight you off but he stays, not exactly leaning into your touch but allowing you to hold him. Even though you want to hug him as tight as humanly possible, you don’t, what you wan’t isn’t important right now. All that matters is James, because he is hurt and so…so frightened. Too soon, way too soon, he pulls back, gently taking his shirt from your hand. „I..Sorry…Good night“ he mumbles barely looking at you. Everything in you is screaming at you to stop him, but you don’t.

 

*****

 

The game, is the worst the have played in weeks, James is invisible, Javier looks like a beaten up puppy and you feel so full of rage and tension that you overhit practically every pass, though almost breaking the goal felt strangely satisfying. Thank god you have Cris. You’re certain that Javier would do nothing to harm James intentionally, a small irrational part of you is still angry at him, you’re also completely aware that none of this is any of your business. You want to ask Chicha but there is no way you could ever do that. James availability may be an open secret but that doesn’t give the right to pry into his sex-life. Still the images your imagination produces are constantly haunting you. Javier wouldn’t hurt James, he just wouldn’t, he is a friend…But James face, that pure terror distorting his soft features. 

Something wasn’t right, it wasn’t just your imagination anymore. Yes things could just go wrong during sex and that could be uncomfortable, even unsettling but James had been truly frightened, there had to be more to this. You tried to find comfort in the fact that you were proven right but couldn’t quiet manage. You want James to be happy, hell if you knew that casual sex was what he needed you would find a way to accept that. Instead you just felt helpless and empty, you wished you could tell someone. Iker maybe or Jesé but James would never forgive you and you would do even more damage. Still giving up wasn’t an option. 

 

******

 

As it turned out James was back to his quietly cheerful self the next day, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He is no longer avoiding you either, though he still hardly looks you in the eye. It’s okay. It’s only when you see him joking around with Chicha you have to turn away. It hurts, you were trying to comfort him, to protect him, why is he acting like you were the one who had frightened him? It wasn’t fair, you just wanted to be there for him, but maybe it was time to accept that James didn’t want that. You should just forget about him, act like he was just another teammate. With time your stupid feelings would go away. Its just that you hate giving up, the sense of failure that comes with it, like your letting him down. Which is of course ridiculous, James doesn’t care about you. At least not like that. You try to ignore him yourself and work extra hard in training, but of course your gaze wanders over whenever he is joking around with someone and just to make your day even better you overhear Cris asking him to come over after training. Fucking great. 

His big Idol is starting to take an interest, how could you compete? You can’t but you don’t shy away from a challenge either, if Cristiano can just ask him to hang out, so can you. After all James never said that all you could do was fuck. You’re probably too stubborn for your own good. A quick sprint and you have caught up with him just as he enters the dressing room. „Hey James…“ You know it’s bit mean asking him with your teammates around, but you know he is more likely to say yes when he is feeling a little pressured to be polite. He looks up no smile but at least there is no hostility either, though somehow his blank stare is even worse. „You know we have the morning off tomorrow, so I thought we could go the Prado, you know the museum? Its beautiful and you should see some spanish culture“ Yes you are aware that you sound like a tourist-guide but the museum is the least sexual place you can think off, besides you are so nerdy you kind of like it. Especially in the mornings when its empty, apart from a few art students, the quiet sparse corridors never fail to sooth you. „Is this what kids do for fun these days? Honey we’re getting old“ Sergio grins wrapping an arm around Iker. „Of course, I bet Hammy here is all excited about spreading his legs in public“ Alvaro snorts and he sounds so mean you are close to slapping him. 

You restrain yourself because you don’t want to make this worse than you already have. „Sure…I’ll pick you up“ James has turned fully towards you and flashes you his megawatt smile, like the sniggers and degrading remarks around him don’t exist. „Uh…okay…“ you know you must look like an idiot just staring at James when you should be fighting his corner or at least behave like this really was going to be an innocent trip to the museum. James gives no indication that he cares even though jokes on his expense are still flying around the room. (Until Iker snaps at Arbeloa and stares everyone else down )He only struggles slightly with his shoelaces. Jesé slaps you on the back of your head. Hard. You deserve that just like the look he gives you that clearly says „You fucked this up kid“ So much for it being a good idea to ask him with your colleagues around. You wanted to protect him and what hat you done? Subjected him to more ridicule. Mostly because you were afraid of rejection but also because…its petty and you feel like an absolute asshole, but you wanted him to say yes in front of Cristiano. Damn your pride. You really are no better than Alvaro and the Rest. Staking a selfish claim when you should be concerned about what James really needs. 

 

******

 

He turns up. Thank God, because your were starting to feel like an idiot standing outside your apartment complex with two travel-mugs filled with steaming coffee. It’s not terribly early but nine am on their morning off feels like six besides you are sort of trying to apologize without saying it. Yes you are a coward. Still James actually looked happy at the sight of the beverage so its all worth it. „You didn’t have to, I can make my own Coffee you know“ You can’t help rolling your eyes at his inability to accept a favor but for once he sounds truly lighthearted. „Maybe, but I’m sure it’s not even half as good as mine“ You actually pride yourself on your barrister skills. „Yeah right“ James snorts. „Hey…don’t mock it till you tried it“ you shoot back enjoying the easy banter. James just smirks taking a long sip from the cup once they are stopping at a traffic light. „Actually, it’s not bad“ He winks at you before concentrating on the hectic morning traffic. It nice watching him drive he almost looks as unguarded as the does on the pitch, frowning and cursing lowly at the other drivers. When someone steals his parking spot right before his nose, he looks so comically outraged, you unsuccessfully try to bite back a laugh. „It’s not funny, that was totally mine“ James growls without sounding the least bit menacing. „Now don’t get angry honey, there is another spot“ You put on your best housewife voice. James chuckled a little parking his car at the indicated spot. "Well then, show me all that grand spanish culture“ You are tempted to take his hand and lead him into the museum but busy yourself with your wallet instead. 

Causing a scandal is the last thing you want. Its predictably empty and silent inside, being midweek and hardly tourist season, which is good, not that you don’t appreciate your fans, you just don’t want anything to disturb the relaxed atmosphere between James and you. Every once in a while you share a remark about a certain painting bust mostly you quietly walk side by side. It was surprisingly comfortable, not at all like the tense silence after sex. You even laugh together at a picture of a particularly stupid looking kid on a abnormally fat pony. Its genuine, almost like you are friends only if you were you would ask him how he was doing and get something other than a lie. James stoops so suddenly that you nearly bump into him, staring at a painting like he is transfixed. It’s dark, black and grey, a mother, a least thats what you assume, holding her child, comforting, only at a second glance you notice the threatening shadow in the background. Almost mockingly, like the painter wanted to suggest that any protection was futile. It was disturbing. Great in a way, but disturbing. James is still staring, eyes wide, like he is searching for something or rather finding it? „Do you like it?“ Stupid question. 

Once again your tendency to talk without thinking when you feel helpless strikes. „Bit too dark for my bedroom“ James shot back but there was no smile in his voice and he turns back too sharply, almost like he is ready to run. Great, so much for James relaxing around you, as tempted as you are to ask him more about the painting, its probably better to leave him alone. „Why did you ask me here? Is it just some sort of foreplay? Does it make you feel better? Or do you think it’ll look good in the papers tomorrow?!“ He snaps at you so suddenly you involuntarily stagger backwards almost crashing into a bewildered looking student. Once you have mumbled an apology and collected yourself James had already reached the end of the corridor. What the fuck?! Why did James have to act like you were a complete asshole? Okay so maybe tact wasn’t your strong point but what was so hard to understand about the fact that you just wanted to spend time with him? Fuck you would…do practically anything just to… „James…It’s not like that“ You fight hard to keep you’re voice down, a public fight with a teammate is the last thing you need. „Just forget it, why would anyone want to spend time with a bore like me anyway?“   
He smiles falsely, his tone light and that feels so much more like a slap in the face than his anger did. You want to argue so badly, but what could you say that would be truly convincing? You know he is warm, kind and funny underneath all that defense, but you have no proof, because the moments he lets his guard down are so rare. You want to scream and rage because of the unfairness of all this but you just mumble a „Thats stupid, you’re great“ That gets you another fake smile. You don’t have the chance to say more anyway because around the corner there is a class of schoolchildren, who forget all about art once they spot you. You’re still trying not to step on anyone, god since when are elementary children so tiny? As James is already kneeling down, surrounded by kids, looking completely at ease. 

 

*****

 

You ask Jesé to come over for a few beers and FIFA, it’ll take your mind of things. James is once more politely ignoring you and the game against Malaga is coming up.. Its good to spend time with friends and anyway Jesé could use some distraction himself, he wouldn’t say it out loud but the wait is slowly driving him insane. It actually works, sort of. Or rather not at all, because neither of you is in the mood for silly games and easy banter. Jesé stops your halfhearted contest midway flinging the controller across the room. „Whats with the mood?! Your playing, starting even and your doing fucking fantastic, even your stupid dog is healthy“ Jesé was never one to mince his words or hide his temper and you liked that about him.You just couldn’t answer his question honestly. Your worries about returning home seem silly and James…well how could you talk about that? You could hardly explain your stupid emotions to yourself. Jesé would think you’ve gone soft in the head. „Francisco…stoop staring at me like a lovesick cow and tell me whats going on“ Jesé demanded shooting Messi who was just entering the living room an angry glare. He really had issues with your dog. „I..don’t know“ Maybe he would let you get away with that. „Thats not an answer, you girl“ Or maybe not. In response to his elementary school insult you stick your tongue out at Jesé. Also this buys you time since he shoves you which you promptly return.

„Seriously…whats going on, you know you can talk to me and all…“ Actually you do and you desperately want to but…you can’t, because even though James seems not to care what people think or say behind his back, you do. „I know, but I don’t…well I am sleeping with someone who doesn’t exactly like me, but I…well I guess I do…like him I mean“ Okay so it was a lot more complicated than that but you couldn’t go into any more details. „Stop having sex with the kid, you can’t make someone like you“ It sounded so simple and you know Jesé is right but this…is different. „I know that but I can’t just give up, it’s stupid, I should just mind my own business“ All of this is true, James is old enough to take care of himself and its not like his performances on the pitch are affected. „Sometimes you just got to do the stupid thing“ Jesé shrugged and smiled like he understood perfectly and that felt so good you almost want to hug him. „Come on, lets go out, your mutt needs exercise“ he adds ruffling his hair, you are so grateful to have him as a friend you are tempted to go all sappy but you don’t need to because Jesé just knows. Outside sometime after the downpour has succeeded in soaking you entirely Jesé stops staring at you so intently you are about to say something about it when he speaks. „You know we all do things to cope and some of us need that more than others, just keep that in mind, okay? Its hard being new around here“ You just nod dumbfounded because he knows, he must or he wouldn’t say that. You expected a lot from him, mocking, disbelieve but not so much empathy. perhaps you underestimate him? But he doesn’t need to worry all you want to do is be there, the chance to really take care of James and that couldn’t really do him any harm, could it? You know thats a lie you want him to be yours to feel as much for you as you do for him. 

******

 

Two days before Malaga its Juniors birthday, and the manners your mum drilled into you so effectively make you drive around to Cristianos. Its not like you are mad at Cris anyway, it just infuriates you that he is suddenly constantly around James and that the younger man lets him. You aren’t sure if Cris swings that way, he is very discreet when it comes to his private life, but it isn’t impossible after all most of you have girlfriends and children. At least he has never participated in the teasing and sometimes downright bullying of James, even protecting him when he was around. 

His word held weight in the dressing-room after all, unlike your own. Still you deliberately slow down your steps as you walk up to the mansion, trying to buy time, to think of safe topics, so you are not tempted to ask any awkward questions. However its only a few meters so you can’t stall all that much time before you have to ring the doorbell. It only takes Cristiano half a minute to answer the door but instead of greeting you he puts a finger to his lips silently motioning for you to come inside. What the hell?! Confused but too curious to ask for an explanation you simply follow his lead. You expected a lot of things, mostly some sort of extravagant surprise for Crissy but instead the first thing you see is James, dressed in some sort of musketeer costume having a sword fight with Cristianos son, looking like…like the fucking sun. Even on the pitch you have never seen him exude so much unbridled happiness. Actually you don’t even think its necessary to whisper, those two are completely wrapped up in their own world. Its beautiful and bittersweet because thats exactly how you want James to look around you. Not that you are pathetic enough to be jealous of a child, it just hurts. „Come on, lets leave them to it“ Cris whispers, dragging you into the kitchen without waiting for an answer. You sort of want to stay and watch but you know he is right it would be wrong to spoil this for the two of them. „He has been here to see Crissy?“ It’s not really a question anyone could tell by that scene that James and Junior knew each other well. 

„They get on well, James just has a way with him, he struggles you know with me and Irina being all over the place and its sometimes tricky with other kids..“ Great now you feel like the a complete idiot, it didn’t even occur to you that James and Cris could have a completely innocent and platonic relationship, like you saw him just like Alvaro did, as a slut. „You thought we were fucking“ That isn’t a question either. At least Cristiano doesn’t sound pissed, the last thing you need is an argument with a teammate. „Yes…I just, it was stupid, I’m sorry…“ He is not really the one you need to apologize to but James more than likely wouldn’t listen to you. „It’s hardly an insult but why do you care so much?“ You swallow hard trying frantically to come up with a reason thats okay, that doesn’t involve letting Cris now how you feel about James. Its sort of okay that Jesé knows but he is one of your best friends here. „Uh…“ Well thats a good start. Ironically enough James chooses this moment to wander in and save you. He stares at you clearly surprised but at least he doesn’t look hostile or tries to bolt politely. „Hey…I was just dropping of the present, for Crissy, I mean“ You hardly owe him an explanation but you do want to let him know that you are not here to mess around with him. James nods and smiles carefully „Me too but I got involved in a duel of death“ You chuckle lightly as Junior bounds in dragging a clearly amused Irina behind him.

„Isco…“ she smiles greeting you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. „You know, now we are a proper troupe, why don’t we all play musketeers? I’m sure we can find some more costumes“ Cris grins and you are pretty certain you have never seen him this mischievous. „Well Isco certainly got the looks for it“ James grins taking off his own hat and placing it on your head. „Perfect“ he adds flashing you a smile that has your heart doing stupid things of course any reservations about making a fool of yourself are long gone. It takes less than ten minutes, Irinas maze like closet is surprisingly helpful when putting together a costume, and you are all chasing each other around the house, in a brilliant mess of play fighting, silly french accents and breathless laughter. Funny but its exactly what you need and not just because seeing James on the floor giggling freely, is absolutely mesmerizing. 

 

******

 

You feel like a complete idiot. Despite everyone telling you that the card was harsh, you had been on a yellow card you should have been more careful, its not like you are still a rookie. The sympathetic pats and Sergios obvious glee that for once someone else got a send off, aren’t helping either. At least the winning steak is still intact and you can play in the copa during the week. For tonight though all you want to do is hide under your covers and cuddle Messi. Actually you planned to spend the rest of the ride him hiding inside your hoody but Cris and James are entering the bus together and the younger man is actually smiling at you, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes but its better than nothing. Cristiano however is ginning widely, like he is up to no good. And he is. just before James can even so much as react, Cristiano manhandles him into the seat next to you. „Isco needs some cheering up, Hammy“ he grins before sauntering off to Fabio. 

Fucking great, obviously Cris hasn’t noticed how much James hates being forced into anything. Surprisingly enough he isn’t jumping up to leave instead settling into the seat. Though if you were to look up uncomfortable in a dictionary his picture would be right next to it. Of course you only now notice how Cris comment could also be interpreted, he probably meant it harmlessly enough but with the jokes regularly flying around the dressing-room one could never know. „I don’t…I don’t expect you to, Cris was just messing around“ Great now that sounded as if you had the right to expect anything form James, you don't but of course you do nonetheless. „It’s okay, I can follow you home, or something“ Your not quite sure wether your glad he is not trying to wrap this up in pretty paper or hurt that he's not bothering to. „Do you want me to?“ you all but challenge, this you needed to know. James has turned a little, suddenly looking right at you, his smile has never seemed so cold. „You wouldn’t get to touch me if I didn’t want you to“ It sounds wrong, like threat rather than an invitation. Still your body can’t help reacting to the very idea of his body under your hands. You shouldn’t say yes, however your attempt at a normal date went pretty disastrous. „Good…“ You’ll probably regret this but maybe this will give you a chance to talk. You don’t even believe that yourself. It’s not like sex has brought you closer so far. Its your dick thinking right now, plain and simple. Its late when you finally get home and both of yo should be sleeping or at least resting. You wouldn’t be able to anyway and you guess neither would James or he wouldn't have made that offer, he was the only person you knew who rivaled Cristiano for discipline. It takes him ten minutes, just enough time for you to chuck your bag in the closet, spend a few minutes cuddling Messi and then washing off the dog smell. You love him to bits, but sometimes he smells like a dead-rat. Of course you are still drying your hands when James enters, as usual you’v left gate and door open for him, so Messi greets him with his favorite mix of barking, jumping up and down and slobbering all over his victim. James though doesn’t look disgusted or even bothered, kneeling down to to stroke and pet him, hands buried in the soft fur. 

„You’ve been keeping this one from me“ He doesn’t sound accusatory as such but maybe a little irked. It’s not like you’ve kept Messi away from James on purpose, it’s just that you usually let him out into the garden or leave him in the kitchen because James visits you for sex…and maybe its just you but fucking with your dog in the same room is wired. „Well…I usually just leave him in the kitchen..he likes to follow me around..so…“ „And he would distract you while we’re getting it on“ James crocks his head slightly and actually looks amused. „Er…yes“ There is no point lying about it. James stares at you for a second before getting up and grabbing your hand. „Come on then“ Its almost too direct for you if it weren’t for that purely naughty grin accompanying his demand. Besides despite how pliable and giving his body is you’ve always sensed that James likes control in the bedroom, who are you to deny him that pleasure? As if to prove your point he has you trapped against the wall, lips captured in a heated kiss within seconds of entering your bedroom. Fuck. You’ve missed this. 

His smell, his body, his touch…so close, so tantalizingly yours. Instinctively you pull him closer, slipping a hand under his shirt just to feel his skin. You want to take this slow. Show him how much you appreciate every inch of him, how blindingly beautiful he is to you. But somehow neither James nor your body a quite willing to comply. His dexterous Fingers have already found their way underneath your pants, rubbing teasingly over you growing erection and you just can’t help bucking your hips and pulling at his shirt, because screw slow, you need more, now. Soon your hands find his ass grabbing it, loving how is body melts into yours in response, always so ready, so giving. „Bed and off with that“ you mumble against his lips. In a rush of kisses and touches you make it to the bed, just for a second you think he’s hesitating, flinching even as you manhandle him onto the mattress but he has his hand on your dick so its probably just your imagination. It’s not like you’ve got a lot of brain left to think straight anyway. You’re too busy grinding your erections together, enjoying the delicious friction almost as much as James face. You’ll never tire of seeing him like this. „Snap a picture and get on with it man“ James grins and winks at you like he knows exactly how fucking irresistible he is. „Less talking, more stripping“ you reply in kind, making quick work of your own clothes. Its not like you’ve got much patience left either. Once naked James is on top of you grinding his ass on your dick, his own erection rubbing against your belly, as he hands you the lube. Blindly you coat your fingers a because you just can’t stop kissing him right now,he feels so right, so familiar. His shudder as you push the first finger in, the low whimper, how he clenches around you, asking for more. „Isco…Please.Fuck“ head thrown back James moans loudly when you add a second finger, bending both deep inside him. You hear the noises and you are able to place them, your brain just isn’t functioning well enough to make a connection. Only when Messi lands on the bed a ball of fur and worry, you realize what is happening. Without thinking you roll over, effectively burying James underneath you, shielding him from your dog. Pointless, Messi is hardly dangerous, just unable to differentiate pleasure from distress. Still when are your actions around James ever logical? „Messi…get down“ Obviously your well trained dog reacts immediately to this. 

Not. In fact he licks your neck trying to push past you to reach James. „Messi get off the bed, now“ You raise yourself up a little hoping to appear more menacing. You fail of course and have to use actual physical force to get your dog of the bed. God, first your stupid red, now this, you really should have stayed in bed today. Although even that wasn’t safe anymore. It’s more manners than anything that cause you to turn back towards James. You wish you hadn’t. It’s that look…That fear, that pure terror. Hastily you roll off him, releasing your grip on his wrists, you must have pinned him down unconsciously while trying to get Messi of the bed. Fuck. Fuck. You need to do, say, be exactly the right thing now but your throat is so dry, your ands don’t now what to do with themselves and your brain lets your down completely. You are still staring when Messi puts his head on the mattress right next to James face letting out a low whine. Suddenly it’s gone, like it was just a vision, a horrible nightmare. There is a grin, careful, testing and suddenly there is laughter. Not just a chuckle, James is literally in hysterics. What the fuck?! Was he actually signed just to mess with your mind? „Messi get off the bed…“ he finally manages to breath out between fits of giggles. Despite the worry, the embarrassment and yes the sexual frustration you join in. How could you not? That has to be the weirdest thing you’ve ever said in bed besides James laughter is as infectious as his smile. 

„I really should think about the way I name my dogs…“ you muse still breathless. „I am just glad the next Clasico is a while away“ James replies, rolling onto his side to face you. He seems at ease, the distress completely erased from his features. Maybe you need to accept that if he can shrug off whatever is bothering him you need to let go as well, after all James has to deal with whatever it is and not you. „I dare you not to think about this every time you see Messi“ You certainly won’t be able to. James just grins leaning over to stroke your dog. „I don’t mind thinking about him, he’s great“ Well except when he fucks up your love-life. You want to enjoy this, just being with James but you can feel the exhaustion taking over. No wonder it’s half past three by now. „You know I got a red card but whats your excuse for doing this instead of resting?“ You keep your tone light so he can just as easily answer with a joke. „Sleeping around?“ His bluntness never ceases to startle you, not that you’re a prude, but James is…there is still something pure about him, or maybe thats just your imagination. „It beats loneliness and thoughts…“ He stares right at you almost like he is allowing you in, finally. „And I like it of course“ The last part sounds like an afterthought and that hurts but you try to push that away after all James has no idea what you feel for him. His actions and words may drive you insane but thats your own fault not his, he didn’t ask you to get involved after all. So instead of asking more questions or trying to pull him into a hug. You pull the blanket over the both of you and grab the remote. „Movie to fall asleep?“ He smiles and nods even scooting over to you a little. Its not much but it still warms your heart. 

 

******

 

Being in the stands sucks. It’s like your whole body is vibrating with desire to get down there and play, to pass, to tackle, to help. But you can’t. Somehow the fantastic Copa game during the week only makes this worse. It felt so good to have Jesé back where he belonged, you hadn’t even realized how much you missed playing with him. His energy, his joy for the game, to have him and James alongside you was exhilarating, it made you forget that this was a job, that came with pressure and high demands, for once you had felt like a kid again. You had played like all that mattered was this game. Of course getting to hug James, pulling him so close you could feel every inch of him, had also been a bonus. Now your stuck up here, thanks to that stupid referee, okay so you shouldn’t have made that challenge but it hadn’t been nasty. Maybe you are feeling a little sorry for yourself right now, after all its only one match and the rest will even do you good. Its not like your gaze is focused entirely on him still you catch the change, the sudden stumble in his run, how he halts, gesturing towards the bench before sitting down on the grass. Fuck. Its not looking horrible but not exactly good either, if only you could be down there and talk to him, comfort him. Stupid. Stupid red card. You’re about to kick the chair in front of you but of course you can’t because your are in public. You can’t even run down and find out whats wrong with James. It would raise too many questions and the last thing you want is the staff to wonder about your behavior. Cristiano and Jesé are more than enough, not that they pry exactly, they just watch you very intently whenever you are around James. Its beyond irritating but you can hardly call them out because technically they aren’t really doing anything and you don’t want to sound paranoid. After all you don’t have anything to hide. Well maybe apart from those stupid feelings. But your pretty sure at least Jesé has already figured those out. The game drags on for a small eternity, your slightly ashamed to admit that the win hardly matters to you anymore. When you finally make it down to the dressing room, James is already with the doctors. According to Iker its probably just a muscle injury, he’ll only miss a few weeks, nothing dramatic. Still you can’t shake the niggling worry what weeks without football would do to James. You want nothing more than to tell him, that you are around whatever he needs. But apparently the world has something against that because you only catch a glimpses of James, always surrounded by the medical staff, looking lost and smaller than usual. It does nothing to dispense your worries. 

 

******

 

It gets worse. James doesn’t answer your texts or your phone calls. You wait around for him after his physio-therapy appointment but he strides past you mobile pressed to his ear, hood up, shades on, like you don’t even exist. Still you shouldn’t be doing this, its obnoxious and intruding to put it mildly. But it’s either this or turning insane with your own fears. You still sort of expect the doorman to kick you out of the fancy apartment complex, even though he clearly recognizes you. „A visitor for Mr. Rodriguez I expect, is he expecting you or do you want me to give him a call?“ The question his you unexpectedly and you hesitate a second. „He’s expecting me“ A lie but you hope he’ll find it harder to just ignore you if you are standing in front of him. „Great, the lift across the hall, floor fifteen“ „Thank you“ You smile probably awkwardly, before making your way to the lift clutching the bag of warm croissants to your chest. James had once admitted the pastries were his weakness. 

It takes forever, yet you find yourself in front of the nondescript door way to soon. You ring, just to get it over with, however instead of just opening the door, after all there was security downstairs, you get a slightly shaky „Hello?“ in response. „Uhm…Its me, Isco, I brought you some treats“ Silence. Fuck. He can’t just leave you standing out here, can he? Actually… The door swings open. You wonder if James can actually hear the relieved breath your letting out. He looks pale, sleep deprived, cheekbones more pronounced than you remember, but its not as bad as you feared. „Isco…Come in“ he doesn’t sound sure of this at all but you take what you get. „Thank you, the croissants are still warm“ James smiles softly. „You really didn’t have to do that, it’s just a bad niggle..“ His face betrays his words and it almost worries you more that his sunny poker-face is gone, like he lacks the strength for it. „I wanted to…“ You allow your hand to rest on his shoulder for a second. „I’d show you around but there is not much to see“ Of course James probably still lives in one of those horrible bland furnished apartments. „Let’s have these with some coffee“ Its not like you’re here to see his flat. It’s only when you follow him into the living-room that you realize James meant his words quite literally. His flat is empty, the spacious room holds nothing save a build in book shelve, the kitchen is just as sparse, a chair and the necessary appliances, nothing else. You’re hardly a decorator but you are pretty sure people don’t mean this when they talk about minimalism. Why would anyone not even want a comfortable couch to sit on?! 

Whatever the reason it, you can’t ask James this, not right now, not after he allowed you to see this. Trusted you enough. Instead you mindlessly ramble on about training until the coffee is ready and James is visibly unsure how to proceed. Of course there is nowhere to sit. „By the Window? The view is beautiful“ Who cares if you sound like an estate-agent, you are intruding and you need to fix this. „I’ll get pillows“ Another real smile, it sounds ridiculous but in your mind you’ve started a little collection of moments when James seems to relax around you. „Good…“ Minutes later you’re actually settled remarkably comfortably on the floor leaning sideways against the glass. James dips his croissant into the coffee, flashing you a sheepish smile when he drips some on his jeans as a result.“Sorry…It’s childish, I know“ Ridiculously cute would be more accurate. „But delicious“ You reply with a grin dipping your own pastry in the hot liquid. „I’m sorry this is a little odd…I know“ You have a million questions you want to ask, mostly starting with, why the hell?! But you swallow them down because…you’re a coward and you enjoy just being with him too much. He looks so lost when you do leave him, no poker-smile, no seduction, just a weary man-child and you wonder how much it must take for him to keep up that front. 

 

******

 

It hits you just how much his barren flat troubles you when your home alone, limbs sore from training, weary from the grey madrid sky. You miss home, the beach, the salt, the way that just looking at the sea, showed you how comfortingly insignificant your problems were. You mothers no nonsense ways, you are tempted to call her but it would be too tricky to explain everything and she would worry. But as you curl up on your couch, Messi halfway on your lap you just can’t shake off that image of James all alone in that cold apartment. Yes it was his choice, still…It hurt. It just wasn’t right. No matter how many times you told yourself not to get involved, that none of this was you business, you couldn’t. You skype-call Álvaro instead, because you miss him as well and he’ll save you from doing anything stupid right now. Thank god it only takes seconds for his smiling face to appear on your screen. „Isco…I thought you had forgotten all about me“ he accuses without the slightest hint of anger. „Hey I am not the only one with a phone, but you’ve been busy living la dolce vita without me“ In reality you are sort of happy he isn’t calling much, it means he’s settling in well. „Fair enough…so how are you?“ When did that become such a tricky question to answer? 

„I’m good were playing well and Carlo trusts me now“ As far as football was concerned you had no room for complaints. „And yourself? Do you still like Italy?“ Alvaro certainly looked happy but it was always hard to tell without seeing someone in person. „I miss Spain…but I’m glad I’m here I get to play, I’m counted on…and I like the people, everyone is so warm and friendly to me..“ „They better be, or I’ll come around and kick their asses“ Really you were just glad Álvaro was doing well, although you’d rather have him do well here in Madrid. „Yeah right, tough guy…“ Hey what was that supposed to mean, you were tough, well sort off. „But really, how are you, no offense but you look like shit…“ Great more insults, why was Àlvarito your best friend again? „I…there is just that thing bothering me“ Yes that sounds stupid even to your own ears. „I know we’re men and don’t do that sort of thing but you want to talk about that thing?“ He sounds mocking but his face seems concerned. God you must really look awful. „Its James…It started a little over a moth after he came, we hooked up and that sort of became, regular, so I noticed things, he always seems distant somehow, lifeless when were not playing, he sleeps around and doesn’t care that people know, Arbeloa said some really nasty things but he never reacts, but when I ask the most innocent things he closes off, he freaks out like I couldn’t possible just care, Iike it would be ridiculous for me to see something in him beside a good fuck…Before the match against Liverpool, something must have happened between Chicha and him, I caught him chasing out of the room and he looked, so..so frighted, like..like he feared for his life, he flinches when you hold onto him too tight and he has those scars, I mean they are probably just from football…but he lives in a completely empty flat with the biggest lock you’ve ever seen…I just, I know I am probably imagining things and I shouldn’t care…But I do and I am scared, because he just doesn’t seem okay…not even close“ You didn’t mean to say all that but it felt good, to finally admit that all the little pieces made a puzzle   
that frightened you. Álvaros silence is less comforting, he probably thinks your overreacting. „Isco…I don’t know James or anything about stuff like this but what you saying…I mean do you think something happened to him? Someone hurt him?“ You wince involuntarily because even inside your mind you’ve never allowed this thought to be more than just a shadow, a threat you didn’t want to face. „I don’t know, I could be wrong maybe its really just the pressure..“ How could anyone do that to James? It just didn’t seem possible, stuff like that happened on TV but not to someone like him. „You don’t believe that..“ No you don’t, not since you’ve seen that face. 

„I just…“ You start but end up just shrugging because, you don’t have the right words for this. „I don’t know what to tell you, just don’t give up, I think thats the worst thing you can do…“ „I won’t“ How could you? You hadn’t managed that before you had dared to put all the pieced back together in your head. „He’s lucky you like him so much..“ Even if that was true you weren’t sure if James saw it that way, or ever would. „Álvarito..“ It’s not that you don’t want to talk to him its just suddenly impossible to sit here and do nothing. Patience and idle thoughts were never your thing if action was available, it was half past eight. James was surely at home. „You’re about to hang up, aren’t you?“ His grin evaporates any guilt. „I am, but I’ll call you, promise“ „You better, loverboy“ And with that Alvaros face disappears. You hesitate for a second but jump up before doubt can settle back in. It can’t be wrong to be with James, to take care of him. 

 

******

 

After a stop for pizza you make your way up to James apartment without problems. The doorman has obviously accepted you as a regular visitor and greets you with a smile. Hopefully James would be just as enthusiastic. That would probably be too much to ask. It takes a long time for James to answer, you are about to ring again when you finally hear his shaky voice. „It’s me, time for pizza“ Yes your mum always told it was rude to answer someone with ‚Its me‘ which was probably why you did it so frequently. „Is…Fran…cis…Franci..sco?“ You’ve never heard him stutter so intensely or use your full name. „Yes, its me, Isco“ Hopefully that would reassure him. Silence. Its so long you are convinced wouldn’t let you in. Suddenly you hear the lock being unbolted. It almost gives you a rush. James looks composed, almost too much so, as he invites you in corners of his mouth turned up. „I hope you haven’t eaten“ You aren’t sure wether James has adapted to spanish eating habits yet but even if he has, who can resist salami pizza with a cheese crust? „No…No…want to sit by the window again?“ You want to pull him into a hug, because even though they hurt you its almost worse to see cracks appearing in his walls. 

( How his hands shake when he locks the door behind you, his simile frozen on his face) „Sounds good, want me to get the pillows?“ „Don’t worry, I’ll get them“ he disappears into his bedroom before you can so much as muster a response. You busy yourself cutting the pizza and getting some juice from the fridge, the last thing James needs right now is you freaking out. Once you’re both settled by the window again, the tension seems to have disappeared, James even closes his eyes sighing contently as he chews on his slice. Apparently you have the same taste, yes you are foolish enough to be warmed by this. „You really don’t have to keep doing this…I mean its nice but I am okay by myself“ Your not entirely sure wether he is trying to reassure you or get rid of you, either way it just increases your desire to protect him. „James…It’s okay, I’m here because I want to be…I want to be there for you, whatever it is thats bothering you…“ It sounds lame but finding the right words have never been your strong points. „Be here for me? And do what exactly?“ Its not a downright hostile response but close enough to send a shiver down your back but you remember what Alvaro said about giving up. „I just…I want you to be okay, I don’t want you to be scared, or feel like you have to put on an act…“ A pizza box clatters on the floor with a low thumb, it rings in your ears like a gunshot. „You don’t want me to be scared?! Oh wow how nice, why don’t you tell me how? And while you’re at it explain to my how to appear at least vaguely sane without putting on an act“ You are still scrambling for a appropriate reply when James continues. „Can’t do it? Then fucking drop it okay, its none of your business“ His words hurt but your not ready to back down, not now he’s finally being honest.You slowly get up yourself stretching out a hand but dropping it, you shouldn’t push it right now. 

„I just want to help you…just tell me what you need“ For a second James seems to soften, his shoulders dropping slightly, before he snaps around, practically squaring up to you. „Help me? I don’t need help anymore, I am fine…I have everything I ever wanted and no one is waiting for me back home ready to slam me against the kitchen counter and fuck me until he feels tears streaming down my face or just get off on hitting me right away, I can’t get locked in the closet anymore…I even have a bed…and I can sleep in it whenever I want, I can hire a cleaner, I am fucking save now, I don’t need anything, I have it all…I just need those memories to disappear, to fucking leave me alone“ He’s shaking but his stare is hard and unwavering it takes all of your strength not to look away. „James…I“ „What?! Your so sorry, right? Oh poor James, stupid weak little boy, couldn’t stand up to his parents, couldn’t ever do anything right, stupid whore only just about good enough to spread his legs for the first dead-beat bastard that so much as smiled at him..I must really like being degraded, mustn’t I? Such a slut gets off on being fucked, used by half the team…Poor him, life really fucked him up, let me come in here and be nice, be the hero, thats what you think isn’t it?“ He's trying to yell but his words come out as broken sobs. You don’t think you’ve ever heard anything so horrible. „I…of course, not, James..“ Why the fuck aren’t you better at this?! „I don’t want your pity…I can handle myself, If I want to fuck someone I will, I don’t care what anyone thinks, do you think what they say can still hurt me? Trust me I’ve heard worse usually while having a dick rammed down my throat, or while he shoved my head down a toilet, he liked to keep my on my toes, you know? I just want to play, I don’t want to fuck this up…and I am here now and I will not loose this…this is my dream..Mine“ 

He’s crying, tears streaming down his face, his whole body trembling…but of course he still fighting, trying to straighten himself, roughly wiping his face. So much strength. You still don’t have any words, you aren’t even sure they exist so you do the only thing left and pull him against you. James even let’s you slumping against you burying his face in your neck. Until he pushes you back so hard you almost loose your balance. „You’re happy now? Feel better now you know why I am such a freak? Or do you need more detail, want me to tell you how I felt so so elated when I woke up and he was still asleep? How grateful I was for a few minutes of peace? How I purposefully tried to get fouled could to explain away bruises…or rather something more gruesome? You can feel you life slowly being pressed out of you when someone strangles you, you fight…and fight…but its so hard because you can’t breath, your limbs don’t work and your lungs hurt…but don’t worry your mind will go fuzzy before its over, feels good, no more pain, no more fear…But he didn’t even give me that would have spoiled his fun, you see? I was still a good fuck after all…He would only have killed me by accident but he almost took football away, do you know Ranieri thought I wasn’t tough enough for big games? I could have lost everything…just because I am such a stupid coward, such a slut…I guess..Its only a matter of time, you figured it out already…“ He’s hysterical now, backed up into a corner, like he..he expects you to attack him, so scared, so hurt there isn’t a word for it. And fuck you thought that…you really thought there was something you could do. But all you manage is to stare at him, almost as frightened, completely helpless. „James…“ Its barely more than a whisper. 

„Go away…“ You can’t. „Leave me the fuck alone…you want to help me? Fuck off…“ Maybe. You’ve gone too far. „Please just leave me..“ You feel like the worst coward in the world but your feet still obey James wish. You’re running away. Crying, like it’s you who's hurting here. Mechanically, you compose yourself enough to pass the doorman and drive home. Its not even a conscious decision that has you reaching for your mobile, you aren’t able to from coherent thoughts apart from one. This is to big for you. It’s nothing you can solve with a hug and love. It’s late and you feel bad for a second when Iker picks up with a weary „Don’t tell me you’ve lost the timetable again“ But you need your captain now. „I need you’re help, its about James..“ No point skirting around the issue anymore. „James? Has he overexercised himself? I told him to be careful“ Iker only sounds moderately more interested. „No, it’s..well I was over at his place and we had sort of an argument, anyway he isn’t well, stuff happened to him in the past and he can’t deal with it, not on his own and I can’t help him either, its too…I am scared he might do something stupid..He needs help Iker, like properly“ You pray to every god you know Iker wont ask for anymore detail. „Its that bad? Well I’ll talk to our therapist, he’ knows how to deal with those things, don’t worry I am sure James will be fine…“ You wished you could share his optimism although he probably mostly said that to comfort you. „Isco, are you okay? Do you want to come over..“ He sounds so genuinely concerned and you know how precious alone time with Sara is to him. He wouldn’t act like this if he knew how badly you just failed. „I am fine, just make sure James is getting help, please…“ You will be okay, if James is. „I’ll make sure, try to get a good nights sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow“ You can hear Martin crying in the background. „I will, see you tomorrow“ You hang up wondering why Iker didn’t ask more questions, probably because he didn’t want to know more than he needed to. Lucky him. You spend the night leaning against the wall, whining you had the gut to get up and go back to James, even though there was still nothing you could do to ease his pain. 

******

Of course you do fall asleep in the end and wake up with a start two minutes before you need to leave, to make it to training on time. You just about make it, feeling like you have the worst hang over of your life, looking like you slept under a bridge. Jesé is the only one still in the dressing room, fully changed he is obviously waiting for you, hopefully not because he wants you opinion on his latest single. „Our therapist came in just now, asking James to talk to him, Dani overheard them, outside the gym of course the whole team knew five seconds later…“ Fuck. Why did that have to happen? Hadn’t James been though enough? It was well known that counseling was offered but it was usually kept quiet. No one would talk about going. James would kill you and he had every right, what had you been thinking? Yes you trusted Iker but it hadn’t been your place to share, no matter how scared you had been. „I…its just because he’s injured“ Its a lie and you both know it. „Isco…I told you not to mess with him..“ „I didn’t“ And another one, you really are on form today. Jesé just shakes his head lightly. „I know you meant well but back off a little, okay?“ As if James would ever talk to you again. „Let’s just train“ It was bad enough that you had pushed James so far he had broken down, now the whole squad gossiped about it. 

You had fucked up, everything you hadn’t intended to do, you did. „Alright“ Jesé agreed but it really meant, we are going to talk bout this later. You could pretty much see his face when you confessed the extend of your stupidity. It feels good to be out on the field, at least here you know what you are doing. Its comforting allowing your body to take over, shutting off your mind, the what ifs endlessly chasing around. Those horrible images, that must be a joke compared to the real experience, to those haunting James. It almost works until you spot Cristiano staring at you, he looks…well furious doesn’t do his glare justice. Great. But you deserve that. You wonder how he knows, you can’t imagine James telling him, more than likely he asked Iker after finding out James went to see a therapist and since Cris was something like the unofficial second co-captain, Iker must have told him about your call. Sometimes you hate Real. You try your best to shake everything off an push yourself as hard as you can but one look at Carlo’s face is enough to know its not working. 

How could it? All you want to do is curl up in a ball an cry and pull James into a hug and never ever let him go. Neither was an option right now. You wait around for Cris after Carlo lets you off because you’d rather get this over with. It was never wise to attempt avoiding Cristiano if he wanted to sort something out. The way he makes himself extra tall in front of you, would be funny if you didn’t feel like the lowest human being ever. „What the fuck, Isco? Telling Iker?! Did you want to humiliate him even more? Like its not bad enough what some of the guys say, lets give them some more? Do you have any idea how hard he fights for this? How much it means to him to be here? I know hes different and deals with things strangely, but who cares? He never hurt anyone, he does everything for the team, why did you have to do that to him? I…fuck I thought you liked him…“ You want to defend yourself, tell him that after seeing James, so desperate, so broken, you had been too scared to think straight and that you never intended for anyone besides Iker to know, but you can’t tell Cris what really happened, you’ve already said too much. „I just wanted to help him…“ That much is true, the disaster though is much bigger than Cris knows. „Well next time don’t, in fact just stay away from James, completely“ Part of you wants to call him out on his part mafia boss part older brother act, he has no right to tell you what to do but it would only cause more drama. You need to work together after all. So you leave it at a nod and turn away to run yourself into the ground some more. 

 

******

 

You are reduced to glimpses of James again, he gets better and seems unchanged only a little more withdrawn. You plague your self with visions of meeting him and knowing all the right things to say and exactly what to do. Of being the one thing he needs to get better but you know its that sort of naive egoistical thinking that has gotten you into this mess. Cristiano and Jesé are right, James is better off if you leave him alone. Even if it feels so wrong and almost physically hurts. What do you know about dealing with a life like his, so full of pain and fear? The worst thing that has happened to you was having your first dog run over by a car. How could you ever understand him? Or be so arrogant that you actually expected him to return your feelings? It was stupid. You have done nothing to earn his trust. Maybe if you waited and gave him space you could be friends someday. Still you can’t shake off the need to at least apologize, you can’t make this right but not trying feels like you are failing him all over again. You just have no idea how or maybe you are just too much of a coward. 

You can’t shake those thoughts even when you spend the afternoon at your local animal shelter helping out. It’s become a regular thing for you ever since you moved to Madrid, of course your money is probably more useful but it feels important to physically do something too. After all, as much as you might like to, you can’t adopt the whole shelter. It’s touching how trusting most of the animals are, even after everything humans put them through. Usually you spend most of your time with the dogs but today its a tiny, really no more than a handful, grey ball of fluffy fur that stops you dead in your tracks. Maybe it’s the way the tiny kitten sits, boldly, in the middle of her pen, like she owns the place, flattening her ears and hissing when you reach in. „Thats Poppy, want to entertain her a little?“ Anita, one of the vets, asks handing you a toy-mouse attached to a string even before you nod in agreement. Seconds later you are kneeling on the floor flicking the toy at Poppy, blinking is the only reaction you get for your effort. You are about to give up when she raises a paw and gives the mouse a gentle nudge, almost like she is taking pity on you. Or maybe you are starting to prove yourself in her eyes. It takes almost thirty minutes, your whole body has gone stiff by now, for her to actually play with you. But it’s worth it, watching her chase around her enclosure like a little grey lighting bold is exhilarating. It might not mean much to most people, she is just a cat after all, but to you its a huge gift. Suddenly practically laying on the floor it hits you..James did trust you in his own way, but he did. Your expectations of what trusting someone meant were just all skewed. Fuck. You swallow down any tears, you don't deserve to cry, you didn't actually think you could feel any lower, but now you do.You destroyed so much, just because you were stupid. It’s a tiny nudge that brings you back. 

Poppy is pushing her head against your hand and you instinctively start to stroke her. You can’t have a cat, Messi is friendly enough but he might kill her trying to play, she’s so tiny and brave. You could. No. It’s a crazy plan, stupid, ridiculous. It wouldn’t change anything. But maybe…just maybe James will feel a little comforted by a little ball of fur curling up in his lap and that would already mean so much. Soon way too soon (you are not ready for this, where are all the right words gone?) you are standing in front of that door again. 

Awkwardly trying not to drop Poppys cage and the truckload of stuff you bought for her, yes you may have gotten a little carried away at the pet-store. „It’s me, Isco..“ You make sure to say that clearly, it’s not late at night but the last thing you want is to freak James out. Although he might be bore inclined to allow a stranger in, than you at this point. He opens the door just as the mountain in your arms is about to collapse, you more or less stumble into his flat, scattering bowls and toys on the floor. „Uhm…Isco?“ James stares at you probably just too confused to kick you out right away. „I know there is no way to apologize and I certainly have no right to expect anything from you, but I, well I was at the shelter today and I met her and I thought of you, so I took a risk and brought her, she's called Poppy, don’t feel obliged to keep her, really, I know I am overstepping here again…I just had to try..“ You are probably not making any sense and you should never have come here in the first place. Actually you are so ready to pick up the mess you made and leave again, you hardly realize how James takes the cage form you, kneeling down on the floor to let Poppy out. She swaggers, really Cris walking up to take a penalty has nothing on her, tail up head raised she’s off to explore. „She seems to like it here..“ At least thats not a downright no. „Like I said don’t feel obliged, you can think about it and…well I brought some things she needs and like a leaflet from the shelter, it has all the numbers and stuff…she's potty trained too“ It’s awkward and stilted, there is so many other things you want to say, but its something, nonetheless. „I…“ James starts but Poppy gallops back skidding into a halt right in front of him. Slowly, giving her all the time in the world to run away he starts to stroke her, just rubbing her head with his fingertips until she purrs, pushing against his touch. 

„I’ll leave you two to it..“ It’s hard to drag yourself away from that image but the sight, James gentle smile, will be enough to warm you up on the way home. You’ve not done much, just found a home for a little kitten, that won’t fix anything not the mess you made and certainly not everything that happened before. Nothing you can do will, and that still breaks your heart. But if Poppy makes James happy, even if its just for a few moments, it still means a lot to you.

**Author's Note:**

> So you got to the end ;-)
> 
> Well there will be a third part, I just can't leave those two cuties like this...
> 
> And the painting mentioned, does not and has to my knowledge never been   
> in the Prado museum, its by Edward Munch:
> 
> http://41.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_medvqq1vVm1rydjrdo1_500.jpg


End file.
